


Looking Before You Leap

by Catolyn



Series: Leading With My Heart [5]
Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 16:32:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/652238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catolyn/pseuds/Catolyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy and Steve go to The Metropolitan Museum of Art. </p><p>Flirting and silliness ensue. Steve gets called away on Avenger business, but gives Darcy a rain check for another day at the museum. He also might have asked her out to dinner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Looking Before You Leap

**Author's Note:**

> Mistakes are all my own.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own none of these characters, I'm just borrowing them for my own nefarious purposes.
> 
> Rating for mild language.  
> ___________

Darcy opened her closet door for the umpteenth time and looked for her favorite purple shirt. It was cute, a little retro without screaming rockabilly, not too low cut in the front, and most importantly it _fit_ properly over her chest. Shutting her closet with a growl of annoyance she glanced around her bedroom again. She wasn’t a slob really, she just hated putting away her laundry with a burning passion. Which presented certain problems when it came to finding what she knew was the perfect shirt for her museum ‘date’ with Steve. Sighing in defeat she settled for a super soft black pull-over with a draped neckline before attacking her hair with a brush.

Stepping back she regarded her reflection in the mirror: minimal make-up, hair loose, her best jeans, comfortable boots, and her second favorite shirt. She’d debated wearing her contacts but decided that maybe contacts were trying just a little too hard. She still wasn’t entirely sure where this was going and if she was going to be entirely honest with herself she wanted the safety of her glasses; wearing her contacts always made her feel a little vulnerable. ‘What you choose to wear is like armor.’ she remembered her mother saying once. Darcy figured that extended to glasses as well as the sharply tailored suits her mother would wear for school board meetings.

She checked the time. Seeing she had twenty minutes before she could reasonably expect Steve to pick her up she put her favorite teal scarf and warm coat by the door and settled down on the couch with her e-reader to wait.

Darcy had read the same paragraph at least three times when she heard a rapping at her door. She hurried across the room to open the door and smiled brightly when she saw Steve in his leather jacket, jeans, and a crisply ironed plain white button down. “You’re early! Let me grab my things and we can get going. Do you mind if we stop somewhere for some coffee? I seem to have run out of my private stash and had to make due with tea earlier.”

Steve returned her smile easily, “I think we can manage a coffee stop.” He glanced, curiously, into her apartment. It was considerably smaller than his own, two floors above. Darcy had a plain beige couch that she’d brightened up with several red and purple throw pillows. There was a framed art nouveau style poster on one wall and what looked like a picture of a girl in a ragged dress kneeling in front of a dragon on another.

“Great!” She stepped into the hallway and closed and locked her door before linking her arm with Steve’s. “Onward! To victory! Or at the very least a double shot latte.”

“Is that what you usually get when you buy coffee?” he asked, remembering Bruce’s comment about bringing her coffee if she was stuck in the lab with Jane.

“Oh usually. Though sometimes I get one of those ridiculously sugary frozen things when it’s hot. Which it is so totally not right now.” she replied as they made their way to the elevator.

On their way down she asked “So are we walking, cabbing, or subwaying? Subwaying; is that even a verb? Watch out for me, I will straight up make _anything_ a verb if you let me. Darcy Lewis, abuser of the English language.” Seeing Steve’s faintly amused expression she said, “Right then, shutting up about the horrible things I do to language.”

“No, no, it’s alright, I don’t mind the creative word thing. We can grab a cab from the coffee shop, but the subway might be faster.”

“I’m pretty sure if I don’t stop abusing words my mother will find someway to haunt me.”

“Your mother taught English?” he asked, curious. Darcy hadn’t given him a lot of details about her parents. Just that they’d been teachers before they died.

“She did for about twelve years. Eventually she went into administration and became the vice principal at a high school.” She considered their transportation options. “It’s still fairly nice, even if the weather is supposed to get crappy later. Let’s take the subway there and if the weather's gone to pot when we’re done ogling art we can get a cab back.”

Nodding in agreement they stepped off the elevator, still arm in arm and made their way to the nearest coffee shop. While they waited in line Steve asked, “So if your mom was a vice principal, what did your dad teach?”

Darcy grinned, impishly. “Guess!”

He scowled at her a little, feeling a little put upon. He didn’t think he knew her well enough to just randomly guess what her father might have taught. “A little help? I don’t even know what grade he taught.”

“Oh, well, that’s fair. He taught high school too.”

“Hmm... Okay. Have you been influenced by the subject he taught?”

“Absolutely.”

Steve considered this for a long moment before he snapped his fingers. “Music! I’d bet anything he taught music!”

She pouted at him, “Oh! Lucky guess! Right in one.”

Pleased with himself for guessing correctly he smirked slightly, “Not so lucky really. It’s the one constant about you. You always seem to be listening to music. So it made sense.”

Eyeing him suspiciously she asked, “Are you sure you aren’t secretly super smart like Tony and Bruce?”

He chuckled. “If I’d was super smart I think I would have found some other way to contribute to the war effort that didn’t involve turning myself into a human lab rat.”

“Hmmph. I’m not convinced. It could all be part of your dastardly plan you know?”

“‘Dastardly plan’? Do I look capable of dastardly plans?” he asked putting on his very best ‘Who me?’ face.

“You used to lead a highly successful guerilla warfare strike team in a war zone. I’m pretty sure ‘dastardly plans’ are in your blood.” she said, matter of factly.

Steve blinked, taken aback. “How did you know that?”

“Open foot, insert mouth. God how I hate that about myself.” she sighed and looked up at him. “US history my senior year of high school; we all had to choose a historical figure, research him or her, and then present a paper to the class. And before you look _too_ horrified, I did mine on Amelia Earhart. But two boys in my class did theirs on you.”

Steve looked a little shell shocked, “Oh.”

“Look, I’m sorry, shouldn’t have said that. You probably really don’t need or _want_ the reminders that you’re a historical hero to pretty much every American alive.” Darcy looked distressed.

“Miss, can I take your order?” interrupted the barista.

Darcy quickly mouthed “Sorry.” to Steve before turning around to order her latte and pay.

Steve ordered his own plain coffee and they stood together waiting for Darcy’s order. He looked at her and saw she was twisting the ends of her scarf between her hands and cleared his throat. “Darcy, its okay what you said. I’m still not used to the fact that people grew up writing history reports about me. I don’t think I’ll ever be _used_ to it. But I don’t want you to think you can’t talk about it because I’ll hate you or something.”

She stopped abusing the edges of her scarf and smiled ruefully. “I’m probably going to have to hold you to that because I can pretty much promise that won’t be the last time I say something insensitive.” Steve reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently. He seemed about to say something when a barista called out her order. She squeezed his hand back, let go, and went to claim her coffee.

Back out on the sidewalk they continued their walk to the nearby subway station. “What were you about to say in there?” she asked.

“Huh? Oh. Um.” Steve blushed. “I was going to say I promise not to hold anything you say against you.” He’d almost said he didn’t think hating her was something he’d ever do, that she was too kind to hate.

She gave him a skeptical look, sensing he’d really been on the verge of saying something completely different, but decided not to push.

They chatted about less consequential things on their way to the subway. On the platform the conversation slipped back to Darcy’s parents. “I’m still trying to catch up on seventy years of history and I’ve _read_ about hippies, but I’m not really sure I understand.”

Darcy sipped her coffee and arched her eyebrow, “Why ask me?” her tone of voice clearly indicating her confusion.

“Well, because you said your parents were hippies. I guess I’m just wondering what that meant.”

She cocked her head to the side and replied, “Depends on who you ask. I mean, hippie is just a label, and like any label it means different things to different people. To my parents it was a lot about asking questions, non-conformity, trying new things, and not blindly accepting whatever the media driven political line was.”

Steve nodded slowly. “I think I can understand that. I questioned orders and broke protocol more than a few times when I thought the orders being handed down were going to result in a massive FUBAR.”

Darcy quirked the corner of her mouth up at the fact she’d probably gotten Steve as close to cursing as he was likely to get without being under stress. “Well that can be part of it. My folks had a station wagon when I was growing up. It had four bumper stickers on it. The first one said ‘Question Authority’, another said ‘Question Everything’, then there was the one that said ‘It will be a great day when our schools get all the money they need and the air force has to hold a bake sale to buy a bomber’, and the last one said ‘If you aren’t outraged, you aren’t paying attention’. I think my folks ascribed to the more activist oriented hippie movement. The idea that the government didn’t know what was best and that our worst enemy isn’t another country, but our own complacency. So for some people hippie means someone who’s an activist. But there was also a lot of experimenting with drugs in the sixties and seventies, and so to some people the label means getting high. Of course there are people that fall somewhere in the middle.” She shrugged, “Like I said, it’s all really just labels and labels can hide a lot of stuff.”

Steve sipped his coffee, apparently deep in thought, before saying, “Are there any galleries you want to see at the Met?”

Darcy rocked back on her heels frantically trying to figure out if there had been anything to herald the sudden shift in conversation. Deciding that maybe Steve was just trying to steer the conversation away from emotionally volatile topics she settled for taking another sip of coffee and replied, “I’ve always been fascinated by Egyptian art and artifacts. I used to have books and books about it when I was a kid. What about you? I’ve seen you drawing so I know you’re artistic. I’m sure you’ve been to the Met before, unlike slacker me.”

“I’ll make sure we go through the Egyptian collection then.” he said with a smile. “I only started going to the museum recently. It’s really something you can’t see all in one day there’s just too much, but I always try to make time to go through the gallery of drawings and prints up on the second floor. There’s some really amazing stuff. Makes me feel like a rank amateur.”

Darcy laughed, “If you were perfect at everything I think the rest of us mere mortals would just give up.”

Before Steve could muster up a reasonable defense to being accused of being perfect their train arrived. The subway ride was a bit too loud to carry on a conversation without shouting so they rode along exchanging smiles and letting the motion of the train jostle them together.

As they got off at their stop Steve pantomimed taking off a hat to let Darcy off the train ahead of him. She play curtsied and then crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue at him, which quickly devolved into seeing who could make the more ridiculous face as they made their way up to the street.

Steve was laughing as Darcy scowled at him, placed the back of her hand under her chin, and wiggled her fingers at him. “What’s _that_ supposed to be?”

“Cthulhu!” she replied gleefully.

“Bless you.” he replied, utterly deadpan.

She playfully tried to hip check him into stumbling but instead ended up feeling as though she’d smacked her hip into a rock wall. “Oh ow! What on earth are you made of?! Pure granite? There’s muscles and then there’s rock hard wall!” She complained gingerly rubbing her hip. “I swear if that bruises I’m going to be so embarrassed.”

“Oh, geeze! I’m sorry! Are you alright?” The expression of concern on his face was genuine and made Darcy feel guilty.

“I assaulted you, and you’re apologizing to me? I hate to break it to you, but I’m pretty sure I just broke, like, a dozen laws by attacking a national icon. You should totally be pressing charges or something.” Darcy smiled up at him and he suddenly had trouble remembering how breathing worked. “Come on, the museum awaits!” She grabbed his hand and tugged him along after her.

Steve was slowly getting used to Darcy’s casual physicality. He wasn’t getting used to how his pulse would race and stutter when she took his arm or held his hand. When they’d stood beside each other on the train he’d been hyper-aware of the space she occupied. At one station the train had lurched as it pulled away from the platform. She’d stumbled back against him, he caught her and then caught the scent of her hair; it was something a little sweet and a little spicy, which seemed to suit her perfectly. _Get a grip, Rogers or you’re going to fall in love with her before you even get up the nerve to take her out to dinner._ he thought as he walked hand in hand with Darcy up the steps of the museum.

When they paid for their admission Steve had to quash his immediate impulse to buy both tickets. He’d gotten the riot act from Natasha once when he’d dared to presume that she needed her lunch paid for. After that he’d become very cautious when it came to offering to pay when he was out somewhere with a woman. Not that he went out with women much... At all really. But there had been a few instances when he’d found himself out with Natasha, sharing a meal as teammates. There was one memorable occasion when Agent Hill had shanghaied him into lunch, away from SHIELD headquarters, because everyone else had already eaten and she swore if she ate lunch in the commissary one more time that week she was going to scream.

Tickets and a map in hand they entered the museum. “Where to first?” Darcy asked, interrupting his train of thought.

“Oh, um, they have a really neat section devoted to arms and armor, I was hoping we could go through there. I’m looking for some references for something I want to draw.” 

She opened their map so they could both see it. “Well it looks like that and the Egyptian wing are here on the first floor. Why don’t we head that-a-way and try to hit those first and then wander?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Isn’t that like part of your motto? Having a plan?”

He laughed, “I guess so, but it usually isn’t applied to museum visits.”

Bantering as they walked Steve marveled at how easy it was to talk with her. How his usual awkwardness faded away.

Darcy decided that maybe she shouldn’t be touching Steve so much, regardless of how well her hand fit in his. But she couldn’t help but notice he was walking to keep pace with her and wasn’t making her hurry to keep up with his longer legs.

In the arms and armor exhibit Steve pulled a small sketchbook and pencil out of his jacket pocket. He did quick sketches of several suits of armor while Darcy leaned over a case of swords and daggers. Eventually she made her way back to him and peeked at his pad of paper. “What are you going to use these for?”

Not taking his eyes off the paper he replied, “It’s silly, but the last time I was here I saw the suits of armor and thought of Tony. Some of these are really amazing works of art, as well as being armor.” he shrugged a shoulder. “So I got the idea of drawing an Iron Man suit based off of one of these suits of armor. The last time I was here I didn’t have my sketchbook and I couldn’t remember exactly what this one looked like.”

“Are you going to give the drawing to Tony when you’ve finished it?”

“I don’t know. I’m still not sure he really wants to be my friend. We work well enough together now, we respect each other.” he caught Darcy’s arched eyebrow and look of skepticism. “Well most of the time anyway.” he amended. “But there’s a difference between working well with someone and being their friend.”

“I think you should give it to him.” declared Darcy.

“Why?”

“Because he’d get a kick out of the Iron Man armor as a real suit of armor. Who knows, he might even make one that looked like it if you made it snazzy enough. It seems like the kind of thing he’d do.”

Steve finished his sketch and put his materials back in his pocket. “I’ll think about it. Why don’t we go check out the Egyptian wing?”

“What else do draw?”

“Architecture and people mostly. Though I sometimes doodle cartoon caricatures.”

“Did you do the one of Hulk and Thor that Bruce has taped up in his lab?” she asked, remembering cartoon she’d noticed some weeks back when Jane had loaned her mad data compiling skills to the other scientist. It had been a little cartoon Hulk holding a disgruntled looking Thor in a headlock and giving him a noogie.

Steve grinned, “Yeah, I did that one after a mission. Hulk seems to really like annoying Thor. Which is probably good because I think Thor’s the only one who can stand up to Hulks sense of humor.”

“Hulk has a sense of humor? That’s kinda terrifying.”

“It’s not a very sophisticated sense of humor, but he’s definitely got one.”

“Huh. Learn something new everyday.” she said, shaking her head in disbelief.

They’d only just started exploring the Egyptian wing when Steve’s phone began ringing. He pulled it out of his pocket and made a face. “Damn. I have to take this. I’m really sorry.”

Darcy made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “It’s alright. You’re on call, I get it.”

He smiled in thanks as he answered his phone and Darcy listened in shamelessly to the one sided conversation. “Rogers here. At the Met. What’s the situation Director?” Silence for a few moments and then. “We took the subway but I can get a cab back right away. It might take me twenty minutes to get back to the tower. Oh, well that works too. I’ll be out front in five. Huh? Yeah, there’s someone with me but... Damnit he hung up.”

“What’s up?”

“Call to assemble. We need to go to Chicago. Fury is sending a SHIELD vehicle to pick me up and I’ll rendezvous with the rest of the team en route. I’m _really_ sorry.” He said, looking stricken. “Since I’m deserting you I’ll give you fare for the cab ride back.”

“It’s okay I’ll take the train back. But I’m going to demand a rain check for the rest of the galleries.” She replied, trying to hide her disappointment.

“Done. I’d better get going.” Steve turned to go back the way they’d come.

“I’ll walk you out.” and she trotted to catch up with him.

They hurried back out to the front of the building where a large black SUV was already waiting in the emergency parking. The agent in the back opened the door for Steve as they approached. “I had a really great time.” he began.

“I did too. And I mean it. I want a rain check.”

He smiled broadly, took out his sketchbook and flipped to a clean page, writing ‘Rain check for one afternoon at the museum, redeemable by Miss Darcy Lewis’ before tearing the page out and handing it to her “Be sure to cash it.” and he started to get in the SUV.

“Hey Captain!” He jerked his head up. Darcy hadn’t ever called him by his rank before. She skipped forward and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Kick ass, and take names soldier. I expect to see you soon.”

He straightened up just a bit and snapped off a brisk salute to her. “Yes ma’am!”

“Ooh, ‘ma’am’ I think I kinda like that.” and she winked at him, putting a little extra sway in her hips as she stepped back.

He grinned, ear to ear, and got into the vehicle. Before the door closed he said. “When I get back from Chicago, I’d like to ask you out to dinner.”

The door shut but he could hear her shouted reply. “I’ll say yes!”

The agent in the seat beside him gave him a curious look. “Eyes front mister.” was Steve’s gruff reply as his phone began to ring again, he answered. “Rogers.”

“Steve!” came Tony’s voice. “You sly dog! Did I just see Jane’s assistant Darcy kissing you on the cheek?! Because I’m pretty fucking sure I did! Except that would mean you’ve ditched the stumbling virgin act and are chasing tail. And that is a mighty fine tail to be chasing I might add.”

“How...” began Steve, sounding a bit strangled.

“Dude, I fly. Remember? Flying suit is sort of my schtick. Fury called you from the tower and I overheard you say ‘We took the subway.’ so I just wanted to make sure you weren’t falling in with a bad crowd.”

Steve tried to defend himself. “We just went the the museum together. She’s been living in New York for eight months and hadn’t been to the Met yet. She asked if I’d like to go with her. I like art so I said yes.”

“And her notable assets had nothing to do with your saying yes?” the sarcasm was practically dripping from Tony’s voice. “You took a girl to the museum and then she kissed you when you had ditch! She’s totally macking on you! Go Cap!”

“I’m hanging up now Tony. And so help me god if you hassle Darcy about this I will tell Pepper.”

“Dirty pool old man. Dirty pool.” groused Tony, good naturedly.

“And don’t call me old.” Steve disconnected the call and slipped his phone back in his pocket.

Having a second thought he pulled his phone back out and carefully sent a text message to Bruce: **Had a museum trip with Darcy. Was having a good time before the call to assemble. I’d like to send her a text message, but I don’t have her number. Do you?**

Bruce’s reply was quick in coming and just ten digits. It was followed by second message a moment later: **:-)**

Steve grinned and wrote a quick message to Darcy: **Hope you don’t mind, I got your number from Bruce. I forgot to ask you for it before I left. I’ll call when I’m back in New York.**

A moment later his phone chimed: **I don’t mind. I was actually about to ask Natasha for your number. You’d better call me when you’re back.**

He considered his reply for a moment and then typed in: **As you wish**

His day might not have turned out the way he’d planned. But with a kiss on the cheek and the promise that Darcy would say yes if he asked her out to dinner, he had trouble minding too much. He mused, _I think I could fall for this girl without even trying._.

Steve didn’t mind that much either.

**Author's Note:**

> Darcy has this [Alphonse Mucha](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/c/c0/Alphonse_Mucha_-_Poetry.jpg) print on her wall and [this](http://www.mercermayer.com/eos0023_01b.html) is the picture of the girl and the dragon.
> 
> I've never been to the Met, but I tried to reference their on line museum map.


End file.
